


For The One The Flowers Loved

by azwritesfantasy



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:56:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28782333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azwritesfantasy/pseuds/azwritesfantasy
Summary: A warrior who wants to be understood. A gardener who wants to be heard. Under a twilit sky, two men will meet and discover that they are not as alone as they seem.





	For The One The Flowers Loved

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Schneezed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schneezed/gifts).



Archelaus sat in a field of grass. The sun was diving into the horizon and the moon was beginning to show itself. As the last remnants of the sun began to fade, Archelaus sighed.

He was reminded of an age-old tale from childhood.

The tale of the sun and the moon. It was a dated story his mother had always loved to tell. Almost like lovers, they were cursed to never meet, yet fated to ever pursue the other for an eternity. At least, that was how his mother saw it. She, and many others who enjoyed the tale, saw it as a story of romance, of two who loved one another so much, that they sought one another for eternities.

Archelaus had always scoffed at the tale.

The warrior looked up at the sky and muttered to himself. “Why pursue what you cannot have?”

It was merely an effort of insanity. Why do they continue to struggle, knowing that they could not change their fate? The sun and moon have risen and fallen, always without the other, and that is how it has always been. What love could be so great that one would forsake themselves for one another?

As the glints of the fading sun flashed across the sky, Archelaus stretched out on the grass, the crunching of the vegetation audibles under him, his armor clanking with the movement.

It had been a long day of training. The regimen was especially fierce today. The men had been pushed to their limits until they could not hold up their weapons any longer. Once the grueling instruction had been over, Archelaus snuck away in silence, to this very spot in the field, away from the noise of the polis.

It was quiet here, and Archelaus enjoyed that. Not a soul nearby to disturb him.

Only a rustle beneath Archelaus disturbed the ever-present silence.

Archelaus looked down to see something brushing against his hand.

A rose.

A smile touched his lips as he moved his hand to caress the small crimson flower with soft hands. Would the other warriors have seen him now, he would not have heard the end of it.

Archelaus was always inclined towards most things other men around him would never take interest in. Preparing meals, seeing sights, and watching nature blossom. Even flowers were such an example. Though he would never admit it, the beauty of the miniscule nature fascinated him.

He was lost in his thoughts, watching the flower change shape and move under his fingers. It shook in the wind and its softness curled into his hand.

“Beautiful, is it not?”

Archelaus’ body tensed with panic. As right hand snatched his sword off to the side, his eyes darted to the source of the voice to his left.

And he stopped.

Before him, sitting off to the side, was another man.  
  


The light of the sky’s colorful haze from the fading sun revealed his hazel hair, where one side was laid flat as a calm sea but the other side, a tide of sepia rising and cascading down his left side. He wore an ivory robe which hung down his right arm yet parted in the center, revealing his chest. His skin was a light shade of bronze, and his arms and chest were trailed with bits of amber bristle.

The man did not move, but he only gave Archelaus a gentle smile.

Archelaus’ felt his own breath hitch.

He was… beautiful.

Archelaus wanted to respond but the words would not come. He felt pins and needles on the back of his neck the longer his silence went on. The man before him leaned in, and Archelaus felt his gaze glancing over his armor.

“A Grecian warrior, are you? To think that I would find one in a place like this.”

Archelaus straightened, setting his weapon down and facing forward. He did not really feel like talking. 

“I merely needed a place to rest after a long day.” A neutral response. Maybe if he were distant, the man would get the message.

The other man made a deep noise of affirmation. “Did the comforts of the polis not suffice?”

Archelaus grunted. “They do, but I am not fond of people too much.” He was sure to enunciate the last few words.

The other man was not even phased by it. “Why?”

Archelaus put on his best exasperated face. “You ask many questions.”

The amber haired man grinned. “I am merely curious about you.”

Cheeky. Archelaus felt somewhat amused by the answer.

The other man leaned forward. "I have always heard that the brotherhoods between Grecian warriors are strong as iron. Do you not feel the same way?"

Archelaus shook his head. “They would not understand me.” He reached to feel the rose at his side. “Their thoughts are of larger matters, and mine, the ones that often go unnoticed.”

There was a small pause between the two, before the amber-haired man spoke up again.

“On that we are in agreement.” His dark eyes gazed upon the sky. “I was a figh-" He stopped, brushing a hand over his chest. Archelaus almost thought he could have seen something below his hand. 

It almost looked like a scar.  
  
The man continued. "I am a gardener, and I love flowers more than anything. I could speak about any one and tell you anything from where they can be found, what season they bloom, and what they look like, yet none would ever listen to me.” He gave a dejected sigh.

“Sometimes, I think it would be better if I had been a warrior like you. Maybe then, I would be seen as more of a man."

Something shifted within Archelaus’ chest shifted at the words. Something that made him look at the other man with an expression he seldom gave others.

Compassion.

He could longer feel his earlier cold front retaining structure anymore. Archelaus’ body shifted towards the other now, his expression becoming indignant.

"Why would this make you any less of a man?"

The gardener flinched. "Well, men are born to fight, aren't they? I am always told that I am just lazing my days away over my gardening, when I could be fighting among heroes."

Archelaus reached in the back of himself to grab a stray grain of wheat. The vegetation made crunching sounds as he examined it.

"Tell me. What gives the Grecian warriors strength to fight?"

The amber-haired man pondered the question. "Bonds, no..." His face became uncertain as he spoke once again. "Food?" The word was spoken as if he expected it to be a silly answer.

Archelaus gave a satisfied nod and a smile. "That is right. And just who is it that makes the food us warriors eat?"

The gardener scratched his head. "Well... that would be..." His eyes then widened. "People like me."

Archelaus made a noise of affirmation. "Just as you said. If not for people like you, we would not have a warm meal to come back to from the wars. The warriors can easily forget that." He folded his arms. "Next time, you would do well to remind them that."

"But I could not!" The other man spoke up. "I was always told our warriors are people worthy of our respect. I can take a few jabs and jeers. They are not tyrants; they would not just mistreat us for no reason."

Archelaus shook his head. "Those who sit high on the throne forget that their throne comes only from their origins and hardships. They think you less of a man because they believe they are more of a man to tell you that."

The amber-haired man seemed surprised at his words. Archelaus could understand why. For a warrior to criticize his own warriors, it was akin to a religious affront.

Yet, it was nothing to the warrior.

Archelaus believed that no deed--no matter how good--would ever make a man beyond reproach or question.

The amber-haired man turned away from Archelaus' gaze now and spoke. "But... there is definitely truth in what they say. After all, who would listen to a gardener ramble not of battle, but about flowers?"

Archelaus spoke his next words as if they were second nature.

“I would.”

The other man’s head snapped up and his eyes widened at the statement. “ _Really_?”

Archelaus made a gesture with his arms. “I’ve nowhere else to be, now do I?”

The amber-haired man made a delighted noise as he sat up, facing the warrior now. Archelaus did not think it possible, but he saw his smile become even more radiant than before. He could feel that the man was truly happy.

It was too late before Archelaus noticed a smile touch his own lips. Yet the amber-haired man did not seem to notice.

“What would you like to know, Sir…” The other man paused, his hands clasped together, almost in a nervous manner.

“Archelaus. Just Archelaus.” The warrior gave, and the other man nodded.

"Archelaus then."

Archelaus made a deep noise before pondering what he should ask him.

It was then that he looked down again at the rose in his palm. He nodded.

“Tell me about this rose then.”

The other man showed a look of uncertainty for a moment. “Anything? If you are not specific, it might take long...”

Archelaus laid on the ground and leaned on his side now, his arm holding up his head as he watched the man with attentive eyes.

“ _Anything._ ”

There was a glint in the amber-haired man’s eyes as he began to talk about the rose. It’s origins, it’s blooming season, the time it withers, what colors it can appear in, almost all the information one could get.

Little did the other man know that the warrior knew most of it already.

Archelaus just wanted to hear everything he had to say.

He had all night after all.

* * *

Once Archelaus opened his eyes, he was greeted with the radiant sunlight. He stretched with an elongated grunt as he raised up, brushing off grass from his body and armor. He found himself in the same field of grass, but this time, the sun was just rising.

Just what happened last night?

As he racked his mind for answers, the memories of last night came back to Archelaus.

His beautiful companion.

Their long conversation of flowers.

The warrior cursed, as he looked around now.

As expected, his companion was gone.

“Dammit. I should have at least asked his name.” He sighed. “Well, would he even want to see me again after I drifted off on him like that?”

Archelaus grasped his sword as he moved to stand. He stared at it, and in the rusted reflection of the blade, he saw his own downcast reflection.

“As always, I’m only good with a sword. Never with people.”

He stopped as he noticed something in the reflection of himself.

There was something in his hair.

Rather, above his ear.

Reaching an arm to touch it, he recognized the object by the sound it made.

It was a grain of wheat. The same one his companion had tucked above his own ear.

Archelaus felt a smile come to his face.

It was strange how that one little gesture managed to snap the warrior from his dejected state.

To the amber-haired man, it may have been a gesture of kindness for listening, but to Archelaus, it was a promise.

A promise that they would meet again.

The warrior looked at the sun now. Bright and strong as always, yet this time, full of hope.

Archelaus gave a humorless laugh, the realization quite literally dawning on him.

All his life, he had mocked the story of the sun and the moon, calling them fools for pursuing someone, knowing that it would be impossible to reach them.

And here he was, off to pursue someone that he may not even find.

But if he would be a fool, then so be it.

Archelaus would find him once again, he swore it.

He looked down to find that same rose at his feet again. He crouched and plucked it from the ground. The warrior held it against his chest.

“You said to me that you loved flowers...” Archelaus spoke to himself.

Even now, he could see the amber-haired man's muscled form, his gentle face, and his warm smile in his memories.

“But I say that the flowers themselves loved you more.”

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this short tale! I was inspired to write it by an illustration that my good friend, Schneezed, drew recently! The character in the drawing is a Grecian ex-fighter/gardener that he created all on his own. Since his original character is still early in development, I wrote the story based around my own interpretations of him, which is why I created Archelaus as a secondary protagonist, and the result was a really interesting tale! I had fun writing this story!
> 
> Check out more of his drawings and art over on @Schneezed on Twitter, and be sure to read his stories and fics over at archiveofourown.org/users/Schneezed! You can find me on Twitter as @azwritesfantasy!
> 
> Thanks again for reading! - Az


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